


hell is empty (all the devils are here)

by ronbon



Category: GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Not Beta Read, One-Sided Relationship, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Romance, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, idk how to tag, kim yugyeom is a little shit, lots of cussing, they're dumbasses who miraculously pass college, varsity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronbon/pseuds/ronbon
Summary: "I want to give him things," Yugyeom admits. "Like flowers and blowjobs."Jinyoung makes a face. "Charming."alternatively, the basketball team au that no one asked for but i'm writing anyway because we're in quarantine.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB, Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Yugyeom, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Kim Yugyeom, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Lalisa Manoban | Lisa, Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. and this is how it starts

**Author's Note:**

> \- this is my first chaptered work on ao3 and i am hyped for it. i’ve got everything planned and i hope my ass follows through till the end.  
> \- read the tags prior so you know what you're getting into please. if you don’t like something, let’s do us both a favor and please go.  
> \- i only have good intentions i swear, cross my heart and hope to die.  
> \- stay safe, stay at home! also if you don't wear a mask when you go out, you are a degenerate. gtfo. <3

Youngjae taps his feet on the linoleum while watching students pass by. He’s supposed to watch out for a man, a handsome one, with black hair and brown eyes—is what the assistant staff at the admissions office tells him, and Youngjae doesn’t have the heart to tell him that that description could fit anyone.

At least Youngjae has a name, a _Park Jinyoung_ to go by. All that’s left is to figure out which one here can pass off as vice president of the student council. 

It’s fifteen minutes past 4, the time they’re supposed to meet, and Youngjae wonders a little bitterly if Jinyoung forgot about him. 

With his phone dead, Youngjae slides down his seat, mindlessly counting the floor tiles. When he’s on the third row, someone bursts in through the door, and Youngjae sits up straighter, cautiously eyeing the man who came in.

He’s looking around for something. Youngjae bites his lip, resisting the urge to call out a name and mistaking him for someone else. They make eye contact, and the man smiles and waves, walking towards him. 

The assistant was right for one thing. He’s unfairly attractive.

“I’m really sorry,” is the first thing Park Jinyoung says, brows knitting in apology. “I got a late notice that I’d be subbing for the person supposed to meet you. Have you been waiting too long?”

Somehow, it’s Youngjae who feels embarrassed instead. 

He sniffs. “It’s fine. I just got here, really.” That’s a lie, he could make an egg sandwich with those precious fifteen minutes, but Mr. Park Jinyoung seems nice enough to let off the hook.

“That’s good,” Jinyoung says, relieved. He extends his hand. “I’m Park Jinyoung, vice president of the student council. Welcome to the university, Youngjae.”

Youngjae makes sure not to get lost in his eyes while shaking his hand. 

“Did you come alone?” Youngjae thinks back to Minwook, and how adamant he was to come, but Youngjae forced him not to, bringing up classes and travel expenses. Youngjae tells Jinyoung he did.

“So where do you want to start?” Jinyoung asks, leading him out of the building.

“Anywhere, really.”

Jinyoung, Youngjae learns, is polite and accommodating, but the way he carries himself—like a rich kid in a Korean drama—gives Youngjae the impression that he isn’t someone to be messed with. Youngjae gets how someone like him would be in the student council.

Any other time Youngjae wouldn’t give two shits about what he wore, but there’s a clear juxtaposition with him in basketball shorts and scuffed sneakers, next to Jinyoung, pristine in a pressed button-down. 

They walk along the courtyard where Jinyoung points him the buildings to his classes.

“I didn’t get a chance to read your file so would you mind telling me a bit about yourself?”

“Um,” Youngjae starts, saying the first thing that comes to his head, “ I’m actually here for the sports scholarship. I’m planning to join the basketball varsity team.”

Jinyoung’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, really?”

“Yup.”

“What are the odds? I used to play too,” he brings up nonchalantly. “And my boyfriend is actually captain of the team.”

There’s a lot of information to unpack in that sentence. Youngjae tries to disguise his surprise.

“Oh wow,” Youngjae says, hoping he doesn’t look too dumbstruck. “That’s cool. I hope I can meet him soon.”

Jinyoung changes the subject. “So you’re dorming here, right?”

Youngjae nods. “I left my things in the dorm before I got here.”

Jinyoung stops in his tracks, making Youngjae follow suit. He watches Jinyoung check his watch. 

“Well we’re already finished with the tour, so you can settle in, but...” Jinyoung points to a building a little ways ahead. “The court’s just over there, and if you want to drop by, you can check out the training. They’ve got practice right about now.”

Youngjae mulls it over a bit, before deciding to go with the latter. He might as well get all introductions over with.

“That’d be great, hyung.” 

They reach the facility which Jinyoung tells him is a recreation center specifically for student athletes.

Waltzing past the front desk, Jinyoung pushes open a set of double doors, ushering him in. Youngjae surveys the wide, high-ceilinged area, fitting two indoor courts.

Both courts are occupied, the other one used by what Youngjae thinks is the women’s volleyball team.

Exhilaration unfurls in his chest as he walks on the hardwood floor. It’s been way too long since he’s last stepped in a court.

He must have been too engrossed in admiring the place because Jinyoung gently grabs his arm and directs him to a group of boys on one of the courts. 

They look like they’re taking a break. From afar, he can see three people doing freestyle layups while one of them rests on the bench.

“Just a heads up,” Jinyoung says, staring straight ahead, “but there are some very obnoxious people on the team. Feel free to ignore their existence.”

Youngjae bites his lip, unsure how to respond.

“Jinyoung,” the man on the bench greets, pushing his fringe back. “Is he the transfer?”

“Mark hyung, this is Choi Youngjae." Jinyoung places a hand on Youngjae’s back. “I’m showing him around campus.”

Mark stands and offers his hand, which Youngjae shakes shyly. 

“Hello Youngjae, welcome to the team,” he says with a charming grin. “The coach is out so he can’t meet you today, but don’t worry, we don’t bite,” he pauses, quietly adding as an afterthought, “mostly.”

“Noted.” Youngjae says, hoping he doesn’t look as frightened as he feels.

Loud, screeching laughter gets their attention. Youngjae turns to see that the guys on the court have decided to play dodge ball instead. 

One of them moans and dramatically falls to the floor when the basketball hits his side.

“Bam, Yugyeom, Jackson, come say hi,” Mark calls out, waving with his hand.

They turn simultaneously. In a flash, they’re all huddled around the two of them, curious eyes on Youngjae. 

“Aw, hyung, did you miss me so much that you had to drop by?” A tall, eggheaded boy says to Jinyoung, wiping the sweat off his face with the collar of his shirt.

“No, you’re the reason why I don’t like coming here in the first place.” Jinyoung says dryly. 

The boy smiles timidly at Youngjae. “I’m Yugyeom, the tallest one.”

“Stop bringing that up all the time,” a man with brown hair and puppy eyes complains. Yugyeom sticks his tongue out.

“That one’s Jackson,” Mark says, and Jackson comes over with a blinding smile. He gives Youngjae one of those one-armed hugs which instantly makes him feel warm and validated. 

“Who’s this?” The one with grey hair asks, sitting on the bench. Mark passes him a bottle and he chugs it down.

“He’s the transfer. Weren’t you listening to Jaebum yesterday?”

He pointedly ignores Mark, smiling wickedly. “Finally, someone to exert seniority over.”

“He’s a sophomore, Bambam.”

“And what about it?”

Mark rolls his eyes.

“Are you the captain, hyung?” Youngjae asks Mark. Out of the four of them, it made the most sense.

Mark’s just about to reply when a voice comes from behind them. “Why did you stop practicing?”

Youngjae turns around, and lays eyes on what may possibly be the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen. His mouth automatically gapes open. 

Before Youngjae can really grasp the situation, Jinyoung’s in front of the man, reaching his hand to his face and locking their lips. Youngjae resolutely turns away.

His hopes crash and burn before they even take flight.

“That’s Jaebum,” Mark states, “the captain.” 

The rest look unconcerned, used to witnessing public acts of affection. (Or perhaps nobody chooses to comment, and Bambam—scrunching his nose and grumbling, “we get it, you’re dating,”—just isn’t scared of anything.)

When they separate, Jaebum’s eyes find his. “Glad you could make it, Youngjae.”

“Thanks,” Youngjae says, swallowing hard. 

Jackson springs up beside him, tying his hair back in a mini ponytail. “Are you up for a game?”

Youngjae is taken aback by the offer. He thinks of the most polite way to decline. “Actually, I-”

“Finally!” Yugyeom cuts in. “Now we can play three-on-three.”

Bambam bats his lashes. “Just a quick round before we leave, right Jaebum hyung?” 

He shrugs in response, dark eyes on Youngjae. “If you’re up to it.”

Well of course Youngjae can’t say no to that face. 

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” he says, internally beating himself up.

“How about you, Jinyoung? Wanna referee?” Mark asks, to which Jinyoung shakes his head. “Can’t. I’ve got to help Jaehyung out with the budget planning for some conference.”

“We’re still on for later, though?” It’s Jackson who asks, dribbling a ball between his legs.

“Yeah, see you then.” Jinyoung begins to walk away, turning his head one last time to wave to Youngjae. “Nice meeting you, Youngjae.”

Youngjae shifts on his feet, realizing the situation he’s in. Mark must have taken pity on him, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance.

It becomes a flurry of events, and it ends with Youngjae coerced into a game, stuck in a team with Jaebum and Jackson. They decide on the teams based on their positions to level the playing field (he and Mark both play shooting guard, so they’re separated). They play on one hoop and toss a coin to see who gets possession.

“First to ten, no shot clock.” Jaebum instructs, pulling his socks up.

Their team wins possession, and Jaebum puts the ball in play. Youngjae’s shaking off the overwhelming feeling of nerves, but as soon as they’re running and the ball is in his hands, he loosens up.

That’s one of the things he likes about basketball: he doesn’t have to think.

Youngjae can tell that these people, despite frivolous first impressions, are as infatuated with basketball as he is, and they definitely know what they’re doing. 

Still warming up to their playing style, Youngjae settles for getting assists and guarding Bambam. It’s hard to pass to Jackson when Yugyeom’s the center, guarding the rebound impeccably. Naturally, he makes most of the passes to Jaebum. 

The other team scores easily with Yugyeom in the basket and Mark with easy layups. Bambam even steals the ball from him once and gets a point.

Jaebum is the one who manages to reel in some hard angled shots. At one point, he dribbles toward the basket, getting the defense on him, before passing to Jackson who gets the shot off the backboard. 

Youngjae has half a mind to admire how effortless he makes it look.

The score is 9 to 7 now.

Jaebum’s got the ball. Driven into a corner, he passes to Youngjae. 

Bambam already has his arms up, marking him. He’s fast on his feet and hasn’t even broken a sweat yet. 

In the heat of the moment, Youngjae gets in a low stance and dribbles fast. Like muscle memory, he pretends to drive before quickly stepping behind the arc and pulling up for a jump shot. The ball slices through the hoop cleanly. 

"And that makes ten! We win!" Jackson hollers, running towards Youngjae to bump shoulders.

Mark picks the ball off the floor, hand on his hip. "That’s not how it works, but damn Youngjae, that was some solid shooting."

Youngjae feels his cheeks warm a little. “Thanks, hyung.”

"Who cares? Did you see how he left Bam in the dust?" Yugyeom chortles, as if reliving the memory.

"Fuck off,” Bambam groans. “It was the damn floor. Slippery shit."

"Shut up, both of you." Jaebum wipes his cheek with his sleeve. He looks at Youngjae, giving him a small, unsure smile. "You did good today." He begins walking away, towards the locker room.

Youngjae’s gonna take what he can get.

“Don’t worry,” Bambam tells him, one arm comfortably around his shoulders. “That’s just how hyung is; a little dick-y when he’s shy, but he means well. He’ll warm up to you soon.”

Youngjae doubts it, but doesn’t say anything.

They put the balls away and pick up their bags, heading towards the locker room. They opt to shower in the dorms which are apparently close by.

Jackson lets him borrow a shirt, and while Youngjae changes, he spots Jaebum in one corner, back to him. He wills himself not to stare, but he does catch sight of wide back muscles flexing. (Youngjae silently thanks his mom for convincing him to go to this university.)

As soon as he’s done folding his damp shirt, two freshmen flank him on either side.

"So why’d you suddenly transfer in the middle of the term?” Bambam asks, leaning on a locker while Yugyeom crosses his arms like a little kid acting tough. It’s a little hard to take them seriously looking like that. “And why our school?" 

Youngjae feels it was only about time before someone finds out about him, but he isn’t expecting to be cornered and questioned in a locker room.

They continue with their list of questions before Youngjae can even form a sentence. "How old are you, hyung?"

"Nobody wants to know that boring shit." Bambam shakes his head disapprovingly. "Do you have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Both?"

Mark watches from the side, frowning while untying his shoes, but doesn’t say anything. Jaebum and Jackson are doing their own things, listening in halfheartedly.

Youngjae, realizing this was what Jinyoung meant, takes a deep breath and thinks fuck it all. If he’s gonna start over, he might as well go big. “I just turned 21 today, went for the scholarship, don’t have a boyfriend, not interested in a girlfriend—” Jaebum looks up. Youngjae uses his momentum as a confidence boost, “—and I got kicked out.”

Nobody says anything.

Until Jackson raises his hands up. "Whoa, watch out, we got a badass over here."

“Did he just say he turned 21 today?”

"Well, don’t keep us in suspense or anything, hyung," Bambam says, half-joking.

Jaebum watches him with an inscrutable look.

Yugyeom looks like he just found a new role model, Bambam like he just found the biggest gossip, and Mark is the only one making an effort to act like an adult.

"You can just ignore them, really.” Mark dissuades, giving them a disapproving stare. “They need to be told off sometimes.”

Youngjae tries not to make a big deal out of it. "No, it's fine. We, um, my friend and I, kind of burned down a chemistry lab after class."

Someone gasps. "Oh my god. That was you? You're _Ars_?"

Despite being kept under tight wraps by the school, with how fast news reaches one ear to another, Youngjae kind of expected this to happen. It was only a matter of time before word leaked and rumors twisted facts. 

His incident (while anonymous) got heavily sensationalized, and to his chagrin, even reached local news. Youngjae avoided media coverage like the plague, refusing to have his name tagged in anything. It seemed to backfire a little, with his anonymity getting out of hand, and suddenly the motive became propaganda or whatever, when really it was a very unfortunate accident Youngjae wishes were a nightmare.

Still, he’s a little shocked that they know about it, and the dumb nickname that the press dubbed him with because of it. Ars, arsonist—not really the kind of rep he wants to stick with him.

"It really was just an accident, though,” Youngjae grimaces, recalling the events of the past week. “The chem professor and I have some kind of beef because I called him out for being an asshole to my friend, and he's always had it out for me ever since. Didn't really help my appeal to get re-admitted. They declared it intentional."

"What happened to your friend?" Bambam asks, looking sorry.

Youngjae thinks of Minwook, and smiles. "I covered for him."

Mark tilts his head curiously. "Wait, so how'd you get in here? I mean, that must've at least stained your record, right?" 

"The principal here is my aunt." Youngjae explains, shrugging.

"Ah."

"That must really suck." Yugyeom pouts.

"Yeah, but I think I’m over it." And he really did mean it. He hates that it happened but it’s done, and there’s nothing left to do but move on.

Jackson, out of his jersey and in new clothes, gives him a hug. “We’ve only just met, and I’m not sure if this is appropriate to say, but I think it’s great that you’re here.”

He gets pats and consolations left and right. Youngjae was a little unsure revealing so much to people he didn’t even know, but he gets the impression that these are good guys. He hopes he isn’t wrong.

By the time they pack up and head for the dorms, it was nearing six-thirty. The walk was barely five minutes before they catch sight of the four-story complex. There’s no elevator so they have to trudge up the flights of stairs to the very top.

“Today’s your birthday, hyung?” Bambam asks him at one point, and at his nod, goes back to his conversation with Jackson. Youngjae waits for an explanation but it doesn’t come.

The reach the dorm, and it isn’t the biggest he’s seen but it’s homey, in an apartment style. 

Yugyeom gives him a brief tour. He sees the living room first, with a big brown couch, a coffee table and a TV set. There’s also a kitchen that looks like it’s never been used. Down the hallway, Yugyeom points to their rooms, which is meant for double occupancy.

There’s Yugyeom and Bambam in one, Mark and Jackson in another, which leaves him with Jaebum. 

Youngjae is on the fence on whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. 

After Yugyeom shows him the bathroom, tipping him off on a broken heater, he lets Youngjae settle in his new room.

There’s a pull-up bar installed on the doorway and some gym equipment on one corner. Youngjae pictures Jaebum working out, which is not good.

He’s checking the drawers right as Jaebum walks in.

“H-Hey, hyung,” Youngjae stammers, _don’t blush don’t be awkward don’t stare—_

“Here.” Jaebum hands him a key. “It’s the spare, but we don’t really need it.”

While Youngjae adds it to his key ring, Jaebum points to the bed. "I got the bottom bunk, sorry. It's not good for my back.” He scratches his neck, apologetic. "You can switch with Gyeom or Bam if it's a hassle, they won't mind."

"Oh no, it’s cool, I’m fine with the top. I like climbing ladders."

"Okay, then. It's all yours." Jaebum laughs.

Youngjae bites his lip to resist blushing, but he can’t help it. Jesus, kill him now (but he made Jaebum laugh, he feels immortal).

“Your back.”

“What?”

Youngjae immediately regrets opening his mouth. “What’s wrong with your back?”

“Oh, uh, it’s an old injury from a game, back when I played regionals as a senior.”

“Ah, well,” Youngjae stalls, not knowing what to say, “does it hurt a lot?”

“Sometimes it acts up, usually after training, but I’ve got it in check, so.”

“That’s good.”

"I’m gonna hit the shower first." Jaebum turns, throwing a towel on his shoulder. Before he closes the door, he hesitates and says, "I’m glad you’re on the team, Youngjae."

He leaves, closing the door shut behind him, and Youngjae releases a breath. 

Not from any sexual tension whatsoever, because he has a boyfriend, and that’s bad. 

Youngjae chants this three times in his head.

From outside, someone shouts, "Welcome to the club, Youngjae!" and Youngjae musters up his voice to yell back a, "thank you!"

His phone rings while he’s unpacking his pants. He checks the caller and sees his mom.

Youngjae answers on the second ring, small grin on his face. "Mom, hey. Yeah, I like it here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’ve read my first fic (i still cringe ngl, i want to edit that again one day, but i’m scared there’ll be nothing left once i’m done) you’ll notice that these two fics are in some obvious aspects very different in terms of style, dialogue and the likes. i just want to say that i’m relatively a new writer and thus still experimenting with my work. any constructive criticism warms my heart.


	2. it's nice to have a friend

Youngjae’s putting moisturizer on his face when Bambam walks in the room. “So what are you going to wear?”

“Excuse me?” 

“For the party. What are you going to wear?”

Once he’s gotten a good look at Bambam he realizes there’s something different. Bambam looks ten times richer. “Do you have something along smart casual or semi-formal? Don’t worry, you can borrow from me or Jackson hyung.”

“I…” Youngjae’s last two brain cells are hard at work, “don’t think I was invited.”

Bambam waves nonchalantly with one hand. “It's your birthday. You get a free pass.”

Youngjae is beyond the realm of confused now but he doesn’t stop Bambam when he asks if he can check his wardrobe, which Youngjae just finished unpacking. Yugyeom knocks before barging in, dashing in a dress shirt and skinny jeans. “Hi Youngjae hyung, what do you think?”

“You look great,” Youngjae says, giving him a thumbs up to which he beams, looking pleased. It reminds Youngjae of a puppy playing fetch.

Bam turns and appraises him, head-to-toe.

“Take off another button, and wear a choker,” he says, going back to sifting through Youngjae’s closet, “and ditch the fanny pack, I’m not saying it again.”

“Hyung said I looked great.” Yugyeom sulks but does as he’s told.

“Why look great when you can be drop-dead gorgeous?” Bam picks off clothes from their hangers and hands them all to Youngjae. “Right, hyung?”

Youngjae looks at the clothes on his arms, at Bambam, at Yugyeom, then back to Bambam. “Whose party is this again?”

“Technically it’s Jinyoung hyung’s but we already filled him in, so now it’s a celebration of the birth of two gay men.” Yugyeom clarifies while Bambam checks his eyeshadow in the mirror.

Youngjae gets the gist of it, but he’s already in his pajamas and doubts any activity can ever top sleeping. “But it’s Sunday?”

The way Bambam and Yugyeom grin at him makes him realize there’s no way out of this.

They’re hanging outside the building, cramped in Mark’s car, with Bambam having to sit on Jackson’s lap. 

Youngjae is squished in the middle of the mess, and his ears are still buzzing from the cacophony Jackson, Bambam, and Yugyeom make. Mark drives and occasionally catches Youngjae’s eye in the rearview mirror, winking or singing along to some song Bambam plays. 

Youngjae finds it strangely reassuring.

Jaebum rides shotgun, though he’s quiet, focused on his phone the whole time.

The street’s already lined with cars but they’re able to find a space just close by. 

“Wait, were we supposed to bring presents?”

“My presence is a present,” Bambam says unhelpfully.

“Listen up.” Jaebum turns the sound system off, twisting in his seat to look at the boys on the backseat. “I don’t want to see anyone throwing up in the bushes or looking shitfaced. We’ve got class tomorrow so dial it down.” 

“Yes, sir,” they reply in chorus, Jackson saluting behind Bambam’s shoulder. Yugyeom opens the door and Youngjae finally gets to breathe again.

He meekly shuffles behind Jaebum, gazing up at the building. He can see the party through the window.

Mark saddles up beside him, toothy smile and all. “Hiya, birthday boy. Looking good.”

“Doesn’t he?” Jackson pipes in from Youngjae’s right, carrying a plastic bag full of liquor bottles. He looks right at home, greeting the people they pass by.

“Thanks hyung, Bambam picked it out,” Youngjae admits, picking up the glasses slipping off his nose. “Whose house is this, by the way?”

“It’s Jinyoung’s apartment. His family’s loaded.” 

Bambam and Jackson are already climbing the stairs. Yugyeom, who Youngjae doesn’t notice behind him, wraps an arm around his shoulder.

“Stick with us, you’ll be fine,” Yugyeom promises, but he looks even more nervous.

Youngjae’s staring at Jaebum before he can help it. It’s obvious he’s attractive but his hair is slicked back tonight and he’s wearing snake bites. 

Now that’s just offensive.

Youngjae can stare at him all night, to be honest. But as soon as they’re in the room, Jaebum mutters something to Mark and goes off on his own.

The rest of them troop into the wide living room, Mark in front of Youngjae in front of Yugyeom. 

Their dorm doesn’t hold a candle to Jinyoung’s apartment. It’s spacious enough to hold what could be about forty people, with big windows and white walls and leather seats. 

The floor is littered with people talking or dancing or both. There’s a table on the side brimming with food, and the connecting kitchen is turned into a makeshift bar. Mark spots Jinyoung, who’s easily the most handsome person in the room, dark hair tousled and jean jacket fitting him perfectly. 

He’s talking to Jackson, and when he sees them, his eyes light up. 

Yugyeom greets him first. “Happy birthday, hyung! What’s thirty like?”

“I see you’re still alive.” Jinyoung says in disdain. He looks at them each, eyes stopping on Youngjae. “Hey, happy birthday to us,” Jinyoung smiles, giving him a pat on the shoulder. Youngjae smiles back.

“Where’s Jaebum?” 

“We thought he was with you.” Mark points to where they lost him.

A strange look crosses Jinyoung’s face but it’s gone before Youngjae can register what it is. “Don’t eat the cake without me,” he bids before leaving.

Jackson and Mark seem to be having a wordless conversation with their eyes, Yugyeom is suddenly missing, and Youngjae is left to stare at his feet as if they’re the most interesting thing in the world.

“Where did Jinyoung hyung go? Birthday sex?” Bambam comes from nowhere, linking his arm with Youngjae’s. “I’m stealing the other birthday boy here. Laters, hyungs.”

Youngjae wonders if it’s too late to go home.

Yugyeom isn’t used to parties. He doesn’t hate it (at least not the dressing up and drinking part), but partying comes with socializing, and socializing is only fun when you have people to socialize with. 

As a freshman in a predominantly senior party, he’s got his work cut out for him.

Mark’s talking with some seniors from his class, Jackson’s with his foreign friends and Bambam’s an elusive shit, so Yugyeom is left to fend for himself. He knows most of the people here by face but he’s not close to anyone particularly except for the team and Jinyoung, and it’s not like him to just strike up random conversation with anyone he sees. 

Maybe with a drink or two. 

So getting tipsy’s the goal of the evening. He’s not doing a very good job at that, either.

Right now he’s in the kitchen trying to figure out how to maneuver a keg. He gives up halfway and decides to just get some punch.

When he turns, drink in hand, the contents are dumped on the shirt of the person behind him.

“Holy shit, I’m so–” Yugyeom’s apologetic face switches into a grimace, seeing who he bumped into. “ _Oh._ "

He snatches a bunch of tissues on the table and wipes at the drenched shirt.

It’s futile; the red stain had seeped in and wasn’t leaving anytime soon, but Yugyeom wouldn’t be caught dead apologizing.

He continues rubbing, grumbling under his breath, “You just had to wear a white shirt.”

“You just had to not look where you’re going,” Jeongguk retorts, rolling his eyes. He looks down at his shirt, sighs, before looking in alarm at a stripping Yugyeom. “What the hell are you doing?”

Yugyeom, now only in an undershirt, looks at him as if he were dumb. “Let's swap.”

Jeongguk eyes him weirdly, as if he doesn’t trust him with an inch of his life. Yugyeom can relate.

“I don’t like it either, so just hurry up and let’s get this over with.” Yugyeom prompts, arms crossed.

He looks away as Jeongguk takes his punch-stained shirt off and throws it at Yugyeom’s face.

Yugyeom gives the smug-looking bastard a withering stare before slipping it on, making a face at the sticky feeling.

“You better give my shirt back,” Jeongguk warns, grabbing a bottle.

Yugyeom scoffs in disgust. “As if I’d want anything that you used.” He flounces away in search of Bambam or Youngjae. Whoever comes first.

He finds them together sitting on bean bag chairs. He steals Bambam’s beer and downs what’s left.

“Oh my god, what happened to your clothes?” Youngjae frets as he settles in one unoccupied bean bag. “Wait, is that even your shirt?”

Bambam is howling with laughter. “Love what you’ve done with your clothes, Gyeom. Brings out your eyes.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Yugyeom shakes his head. “I spilled punch on Jeong-fucking-guk. This,” Yugyeom points to his shirt, wincing, “is his shirt.”

Bambam gasps like a complete douche. “You were with Jeongguk, and you didn’t tell me?” 

“Gross, why the hell’s he even here?” says Yugyeom, crossing his arms squarely over his chest. 

Bambam has the nerve to look ecstatic, shit-eating grin making a full mockery of Yugyeom’s chagrin. “I would’ve recorded it on my phone. It’s what Mingyu would have wanted. And I think I saw Namjoon earlier.”

“Who is this Jeongguk person and why do you not like him?” asks Youngjae curiously, sipping on a can of beer.

Yugyeom’s about to answer (with a few choice expletives) but Bambam beats him to it.

“Because he’s amazing at basketball, outrageously handsome, the same age, Yugyeom’s sworn rival since high school,” Bambam pauses dramatically, “and totally Yugyeom’s type?” 

"Over my ashes spread over the ocean." Yugyeom says flatly. "And men with inflated egos aren't my type."

Bambam winks. "Strong imagery suggests strong feelings." 

It's both sad and annoying that Bambam only decides to spout smart shit when it’s unsolicited.

“So what is your type?”

“What?” Yugyeom pulls at the neck of his shirt, frowning.

“What’s your type?” Bambam repeats, waving to someone from his class. 

“I told you already.”

“Yeah, in ninth grade, when you were still convincing yourself you liked girls.” Bambam rolls his eyes. “How about now?”

Yugyeom shrugs his shoulders carefully. “If I like them, they’re my type.”

“Jesus, what are you, twelve?” Bambam chides. "Nevermind, I'll just find another me since I'm everyone's type anyway."

Yugyeom closes his eyes, thinks how completely unfair this is. He pretends to gag. “Thanks, but one Bambam's already too much.”

He _hates hates hates_ how his pulse is steadily climbing its way up his throat. 

“Anyway, what were you talking about before I got here, hyung?” Yugyeom segues, turning to Youngjae.

“Bam was telling me about Jaebum and Jinyoung hyung.” Youngjae divulges, offering a bag of Cheetos.

“He did?” Yugyeom shoves a handful of puffs in his mouth. “Did he tell you they’re the personification of true love? I think they’ve been together since the beginning of time.”

“Jinyoungie used to be co-captain of basketball, but he quit in college,” he continues, noticing Bambam had his head turned. Yugyeom follows his gaze and sees Jackson laughing with a girl.

Yugyeom launches a Cheeto at Bambam’s face. He gets a finger in return.

“Enough about them,” Bambam says uncharitably, standing up. “We should be drunk.”

“But Jaebum hyung said-”

“I love him, but fuck Jaebum.”

Bambam drops formalities somewhere after five jello shots, but Youngjae doesn’t really mind. Yugyeom isn’t too far off, and together they’re a match made in heaven. Youngjae’s a little drunk, just enough to be more uninhibited, but he doesn’t overdo it because he hates getting hangovers.

Youngjae enjoys himself more than he expects. He meets some new people too—Mina from ballet, her girlfriend Chaeyoung from fine arts, and Wonpil from chorale—and some of Jinyoung’s old high school friends. The minutes pass like a haze.

At some point, someone brings out a big rectangular cake, the lights dim, and they all start singing happy birthday. Youngjae makes eye contact with Jaebum in the corner, and he lifts his cup up and smirks. Youngjae looks away, willing away the guilt he feels with Jinyoung right next to him.

The song ends, and Bambam yells, “I hope you blow more than just candles tonight!” They swoop down and blow the candles out at the same time.

Youngjae feels really warm, and really good.

Jackson sneaks in from behind to swipe frosting on Jinyoung’s cheek, and shit ensues.

Youngjae’s lounging on the couch not long after, taking a break from the events and feeling exhaustion eat him up.

Someone sits next to him. It’s Jinyoung, offering a tissue. “Did those two exhaust you?” 

Youngjae accepts it gratefully, wiping his neck of blue frosting. “Just a little.”

“They’re only good at basketball and being annoying, but they’re good kids.” They watch Bambam and Yugyeom make a fool of themselves in perfect sync. 

"Are they—" Youngjae struggles to find the appropriate word to use.

"Are they what?" 

Youngjae shakes his head. He shouldn’t read into it.

Jinyoung gives him a small smile. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

Youngjae believes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would update regularly but i left my outline on this fic in my dorm pre-lockdown (and they still haven't shipped my stuff home) and i literally can't proceed without it. but i'll try to update soon as i can, pls don't kill me aHahHa stan twice!


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